


Details

by ghostwriting



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Porn With Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25821538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwriting/pseuds/ghostwriting
Summary: Hiyori brings to Kirishima's attention that Yokozawa "doesn't seem so mad at you these days". Kirishima seeks out the reason why in the details like she suggests.(Fic leads up to and covers the KiriYoko contents of Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi: Proposal.)It happens slowly – so slowly that Kirishima almost doesn’t notice it. Then again, with Yokozawa, Kirishima finds that he often doesn’t realise pivotal changes until it sneaks up from behind him and whacks him over the head in the form of Yokozawa’s loud outbursts.
Relationships: Kirishima Zen/Yokozawa Takafumi
Comments: 16
Kudos: 127





	Details

It happens slowly – so slowly that Kirishima almost doesn’t notice it.

Then again, with Yokozawa, Kirishima finds that he often doesn’t realise pivotal changes until it sneaks up from behind him and whacks him over the head in the form of Yokozawa’s loud outbursts.

It isn’t that he intentionally tries to be difficult either. Sure, he can be perceptive when he sticks his nose into people’s business without always meaning to (case in point: Yokozawa), but sometimes in between juggling work, Hiyori, and getting a kick out of riling up the Wild Bear of Marukawa while dealing with his serious feelings for Yokozawa, he doesn’t always pick up on the little details.

Being with Yokozawa is often full of intensity, whether it’s attraction, jealousy, anger, hurt, love, arousal… Yes, even as a man approaching his mid-thirties, let it be known that the calm and collected Chief Editor of the Shounen Department and Japun Magazine at Marukawa Publishing is rendered a lovestruck teenager when in the hands of one Yokozawa Takafumi.

And then there’s the moments of domesticity that Kirishima cherishes as well – the mornings when he has time to enjoy his coffee while he watches Yokozawa prep Hiyori for school, the evenings when he comes home to Yokozawa preparing a meal with Hiyori, the nights he gets to share a beer with Yokozawa over companionable silence when he decides to stay over… Well, companionable silence _until_ Kirishima decides that it’d be fun to get under Yokozawa’s skin and see that proud and stubborn exterior get all flustered. Then it’d be a night full of Kirishima’s teasing and Yokozawa’s defensive barking before he has Yokozawa beneath him, blushing and telling him to “hurry the fuck up”…

… and the rest is history.

That’s just the way it has always been with Yokozawa. Some might view it as arguing for argument’s sake, but Kirishima knows that being unreasonably stubborn is the way Yokozawa needs to express himself when it comes to responding to Kirishima’s affections. Yokozawa always acts like he would much rather die than admit that he wants him, at least not without a bit of yelling and cursing in between.

So really, Kirishima’s doing them both a favour each time he goads him and Yokozawa can pretend that he put up a fight.

Seeing Yokozawa beet red and fuming has become so much a part of their routine that when Hiyori whispers in his ear that “Papa, Oniichan doesn’t seem so mad at you these days”, Kirishima is caught by surprise.

He looks up from where he’s reading some manuscripts at Yokozawa who is dicing up onions in the kitchen before turning to Hiyori.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t notice it?” Hiyori continues to whisper, eyes wide. “You’re not very observant.”

“You’re just teasing me now,” Kirishima says, flashing Yokozawa a winning smile as he looks in their direction, clearly curious about what the Kirishimas were whispering about. Yokozawa shoots him a withering look in response before turning back to his onions.

“I’m not!” Hiyori huffs, taking a couple steps back to move towards the kitchen. “Didn’t you just see that too? Papa, look at the _details_!”

“What details?” Yokozawa asks, glancing at Hiyori who has now appeared at his side.

“I was just helping with some panels,” Hiyori says cheerfully. “And now I’m going to help with dinner too! What are we cooking today, Oniichan?”

Yokozawa raises an eyebrow at Kirishima and for the first time in long while, Kirishima finds that he has no clever quip ready on the tip of his tongue.

* * *

It takes him a little longer than expected, but after carefully watching Yokozawa for the next couple of days, Kirishima thinks that he’s finally seeing what his daughter was getting at.

Yokozawa has been a lot more… quiet.

Back when he first started poking his head into Yokozawa’s business, Kirishima hadn’t noticed that everyone around Yokozawa had also picked up on subtle changes like how the furrow between his brows had gotten shallower and that the tension in his shoulders had gradually left his body.

_Yeah_ , Kirishima thinks. Maybe he was denser than he realised. He supposes that it comes as no surprise, then, that he wouldn’t have noticed “ _the_ _details!”_ , as Hiyori would say.

At first, Kirishima wonders if it’s another one of Yokozawa’s bouts of jealousy or if there was something like an impending transfer weighing on his mind, but Yokozawa didn’t seem like he was in a bad mood. Rather, he seemed quite normal, all things considered.

He still responds whenever Kirishima teases him. Recently Kirishima enjoys being _extremely professional_ at work whenever they are in the same room or interacting, only to wink at him when no one else is looking. Or sometimes, Kirishima would intentionally brush their fingers together when he’s handing over some papers to him and watch Yokozawa immediately go red, looking like he’s about to pop a blood vessel. But even so, Yokozawa doesn’t seem half as upset as he’d usually look.

That’s probably what Hiyori was referring to when she said that Yokozawa didn’t seem so mad at him these days. Kirishima wonders if he should be worried, especially since Yokozawa’s rage seemed like a love language in itself. _Frequent outbursts and acts of service are definitely his love languages_ , Kirishima thinks to himself as an afterthought.

But in all seriousness, he knows that Yokozawa’s attitude and the way he gets shaken up around him are merely attempts to hide his embarrassment, so maybe…

“Huh.” Kirishima props his chin in the palm of his hand, staring at nothing in particular.

_Could it be that he feels less embarrassed now?_

He taps the pen in his other hand against the corner of the manuscript he’s reading.

_… But why?_

* * *

Kirishima notices his cell phone going off and checks it to see that Hiyori has sent him a selfie with her grandmother and a message letting him know that she had just arrived at her grandparents’ place.

It’s a Friday and Hiyori is away for the weekend, which meant that Yokozawa could be convinced to stay over for the weekend at the Kirishima household, unless he had other plans.

Kirishima can’t remember the last time that they’ve had time together alone, and he can feel his whole body tingling in anticipation. It’s not necessarily because he wants to get busy under the sheets either. It’s just that over time, he _has_ noticed the way that Yokozawa relaxes around him – at least whenever Kirishima isn’t busy poking and prodding the bear – and when it’s just the both of them on a weekend, they get to just be two people in love for a little bit.

Kirishima glances at the clock. It’s almost six. He wants to drag Yokozawa out for dinner and drinks and eventually talk him into staying the night at his place with a bit of suggestive banter – just the way he knows Yokozawa would appreciate. Kirishima can feel the corner of his lips twitching up at the thought.

Well, that’s what he _wants_ to do, but he’s not quite near done with the pages he’s looking at, and he’s not keen to spend the first weekend in weeks that he has alone with Yokozawa looking at work.

So, he picks up his cell phone again and sends Yokozawa a link to a new izakaya a few train stations away from the office.

**Kirishima Zen** [17:54] **: [attachment] I want to try this today.  
****Yokozawa Takafumi** [17:55] **: Fine.  
****Kirishima Zen** [17:55] **: Have some things to clear, but I’ll be done by 7.30.  
****Yokozawa Takafumi** [17:56] **: Ok.**

Kirishima chuckles, snapping his cell phone shut.

_Ah, just like old times._

* * *

Kirishima can tell from the way that Yokozawa is leaning against the side of the izakaya booth – cheeks just the slightest bit flushed – that it’s a good time to head home. Neither of them is drunk, just filled with enough alcohol and delicious grilled skewers to feel pleasantly warm and comfortable at the start of what Kirishima hopes to be a very lovely weekend.

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” Kirishima asks, watching Yokozawa from the rim of the chilled glass as he takes a sip of beer. “Hiyo’s away for the weekend.”

Yokozawa makes a sound, furrowing his brows as he averts his gaze. “Yes, I know Hiyo’s away for the weekend.”

“Mmhmm, very exciting, isn’t it?” Kirishima murmurs as he leans forward, resting a chin on the back of his hand, not bothering to hide the teasing glint in his eye. “Think about all the _possibilities_.”

“…!”

Yokozawa goes red and clenches his teeth.

“Do you _never_ consider the time and place when you open your mouth?” he hisses, leaning forward as well, keeping his voice low. The izakaya is noisy and they may be in a booth, but that doesn’t mean that they are necessarily out of earshot of any eavesdroppers.

“Strange. One could argue that I only _ever_ consider the time and place when I open my mouth,” Kirishima says, intentionally running his tongue across his bottom lip. He watches Yokozawa follow the movement with his eyes and grins.

Yokozawa darts back, face hot. “You…!”

Kirishima curls his fingers around Yokozawa’s tie and tugs to bring him closer.

“Cut me some slack, _Takafumi_ , I’m being _very quiet_ right now,” he whispers into his ear, and Kirishima _knows_ that he just sent a shiver through Yokozawa’s body.

Yokozawa claps a hand to his ear and slaps his hand away, glancing in all directions to make sure that no one had seen the stunt that Kirishima just pulled.

“What the hell – !”

Kirishima leans back and sighs, downing the rest of his beer. “Always so enthusiastic.”

“Someone could have seen us!”

“Mm, well, whose fault is it that we’re not headed to somewhere more private?”

Kirishima extends a leg under the table, dragging his foot up the length of Yokozawa’s calf, smiling as Yokozawa’s breath hitches before he suddenly stands up, frowning and red to the ears.

“Dammit, _fine_ ,” he mutters, adjusting his tie and grabbing his suit jacket from the hanger. “Just… get your feet away from me.”

Kirishima smiles sweetly. “I’ll get the bill.”

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Kirishima does consider the time and place of his advances and attempts to ruffle Yokozawa’s feathers – even more so since Yokozawa first voiced his concerns. So, when he does make his move in public or at work, he is actually being fairly careful and really does try not to go overboard.

Kirishima is well behaved on the entire train ride back to the station near his apartment, keeping his arms (and legs) crossed as he leans against the seats by the sliding door, amusing himself by watching Yokozawa looking resolutely out the window.

He knows that Yokozawa can feel his gaze on him, and that it’s making him feel self-conscious judging from the way that he’s clenching and unclenching his jaw.

Just the right amount to get under Yokozawa’s skin and get him to respond later, Kirishima thinks.

But while it’s true that Yokozawa is by and large reacting to him the same as he usually does, even Kirishima has to say that he’s surprised that he didn’t put up as hard of a fight as Kirishima had expected earlier at the izakaya.

Not that it’s a bad thing, of course. He just wonders.

So, he looks again for the details.

Details like the way that Yokozawa still flushes just as red and still gets just as hot under the collar whenever Kirishima gets too close. And it’s just as satisfying to know that he still has that kind of effect on Yokozawa.

So, it’s definitely not that Yokozawa is getting used to him as he had previously suspected. He’s just not quite as mouthy.

They walk in companionable silence for most of the way back to the apartment, with Yokozawa walking just behind Kirishima, by his right shoulder. Kirishima realises that for some reason, they have never really walked side by side before, not even when they are out with Hiyori. Yokozawa is always just a step behind him, like he’s afraid to take the spot by his side. And maybe because he’s wary of what others might think of them, though he really doesn’t have any reason to.

Which is why Kirishima decides – after making sure that there’s no one too close to them on the street that they are on – to suddenly stop in his tracks, causing Yokozawa who is following close behind to bump into him.

“!”

Yokozawa stumbles, surprised, and Kirishima takes the opportunity wrap his hand around his wrist, before interlocking their fingers.

It’s only for a second, but Kirishima notices the way that Yokozawa’s fingers automatically curl in, responding to his touch. For a brief moment, Yokozawa’s hand is warm in his.

And then Yokozawa’s mind catches up with him. He can see it in the way his eyes widen and everything about him begins to tense.

Kirishima raises his eyebrows, a smile dancing on his lips as he withdraws his hand, letting it hang loosely by his side, inches away from Yokozawa’s.

“You…” Yokozawa opens and closes his mouth like he’s trying to decide what to say. “You did that on purpose!”

Kirishima hums. “Or maybe you’re drunk, and I saved your pretty face from planting face first into the ground.”

“Like _hell_.”

Kirishima shrugs. “Guess we’ll never know~” he says breezily, already resuming the rest of the short journey back to the apartment.

Yokozawa doesn’t follow him immediately. Curious, Kirishima glances back and catches him absently rubbing the back of his neck, brows knitted as if he’s trying to make sense of what just happened.

Kirishima hides a grin, turning his attention back to the road ahead, slowly walking forward until he hears Yokozawa’s footsteps catch up behind him.

* * *

After they get back to the apartment, Yokozawa – ever the gentleman – had let Kirishima use the bathroom first, so he’s now comfortable and warm, letting his eyes drift shut and head lull back as he sinks into the sofa listening to the sounds of Yokozawa in the shower.

Once again, it’s not necessarily because he’s having dirty thoughts. He listens to the sound of Yokozawa showering because it reminds him that he isn’t alone, even on days like today when Hiyori’s away. For years after Sakura had passed on, Kirishima had gotten used to returning home to an empty house when Hiyori was with her grandparents or at a sleepover with her friends. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he truly believed that when Hiyori had grown up, moved out and/or gotten married, he’d be living the rest of his life coming home to no one and that it would be best to get used to it.

It wasn’t that he particularly minded or hated being alone. It’s just sometimes hard not to think about what it felt like before.

But it has certainly been a long time since he felt that way. Not since he stepped into that bar and found Yokozawa piss drunk at the counter rambling about a certain Editor-in-Chief.

Kirishima smiles at the memory.

_Ah._ That’s something else he has been doing more lately. Smiling.

He hears the water go off and shortly after, the bathroom door opening. And then he hears Yokozawa’s footsteps padding down the hall, and the soft rustle of a towel running through wet hair.

And finally, he hears the footsteps stop by the living room, suddenly quiet with only the sound of Kirishima’s own breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. Yokozawa is close enough that Kirishima can smell the shower gel radiating off his skin.

Kirishima cracks open an eye and sees Yokozawa standing by the edge of the living room, watching him. It’s clear that he didn’t mean to get caught staring from the way that he jumps as soon as Kirishima makes eye contact.

“Yokozawa,” he says, with a smirk. “If you want me, you are more than welcome to come and get me, you know.”

Kirishima lets his head lull back a little more, angling his head slightly, giving Yokozawa a better view of the long line of his neck.

Yokozawa’s hand unconsciously reaches for his own neck. “I don’t – ”

“You don’t want me?” Kirishima raises an eyebrow teasingly, twisting around to rest his head on an arm propped on the back of the sofa.

Yokozawa grimaces. “Who _says_ things like that?”

“You do,” Kirishima replies, without missing a beat. “ _All_ the time.”

Yokozawa looks like he’s ready to argue, but instead, he sighs and turns around to grab a glass of water from the kitchen before settling on the sofa next to Kirishima. Knowing Yokozawa, Kirishima doesn’t have to look to know that there’s enough space between them lest Kirishima mistakes him for _making a move_.

“What, are you upset about that or something?” Yokozawa asks. And then he adds, by way of explanation: “You’ve been deep in thought lately. More so than usual.”

“Ah.”

Kirishima can feel the smile creeping across his face.

He should have known that all this time, Yokozawa had been watching him too.

“Hiyo told me something recently,” Kirishima explains, folding one leg under another as he turns towards Yokozawa. “I’ve just been thinking about it.”

“What did she say?”

“I mean – if it’s not something personal…” Yokozawa hurriedly corrects himself. “I wouldn’t want to intrude or interfere – ”

“Yokozawa,” Kirishima says, gentle but serious. “You really think that if it were something personal that Hiyo wouldn’t tell you first?”

“Of course!” Yokozawa says gruffly. “You’re her father.”

“And _you_ are her beloved Oniichan,” Kirishima sighs, a childish pouting tone in his voice. “I can’t remember the number of times she has gone to you instead of me.”

“Give yourself a little credit once in a while,” he continues, and can tell that Yokozawa is struggling to take the compliment.

“Anyway, what did she say?” Yokozawa asks, trying to divert the attention away from himself.

Kirishima leans back and crosses his arms, ready for Yokozawa’s (probably) extreme reaction.

“She said – and I quote: ‘ _Oniichan doesn’t seem so mad at you these day_ s’.”

“I – ” Yokozawa turns a brilliant shade of crimson, and even Kirishima is surprised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. You tell me,” Kirishima says, eyebrows raised.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your face tells me that you _really_ do.”

Yokozawa turns his face in the opposite direction, hand over his mouth.

“No?” Kirishima asks, amused. “Okay then, I’ll go first.”

And after a well-timed pause: “I think it’s because you’re bored of me.”

Yokozawa whirls around, incredulous.

“I’m getting bored of y– What the hell? Why would you think that?”

“Because you’ve been quiet,” Kirishima says with a shrug. “Not as mouthy.”

“And so you think I’m tired of _you_?”

“Half the reason why you’re so noisy is because you get embarrassed. You know it’s true,” says Kirishima matter-of-factly, and Yokozawa flushes, right on cue.

“You’re the only person who thinks being jerked around by you could ever be boring,” Yokozawa mutters, averting his eyes.

“Come again?”

“You’re not _dense_. You know that I…”

Kirishima struggles to keep a straight face and that’s when Yokozawa catches on.

“You… just… _Oi!_ ”

Kirishima has one hand up while another is clasped over his own mouth, stifling a peal of laughter.

“Sorry, sorry…”

Yokozawa shuts his eyes, thumb massaging the centre of his forehead, releasing a long breath before he stands, clearly having had enough of Kirishima and his teasing. He’s about to head to the kitchen, or bathroom, or bedroom – anywhere away from Kirishima – when Kirishima reaches out to grab him by the wrist.

“Wait, Yokozawa – ”

Yokozawa snatches his hand away, irritated and determined not to engage. And that’s when Kirishima gets to his feet, taking the two steps needed to close the distance between them before he wraps his arms around Yokozawa, pulling him close.

“Yokozawa.”

Kirishima rests his chin on his shoulder, cheek brushing against his ear.

“… I really am sorry.”

His apology is sincere, genuinely feeling bad for going too far. Yokozawa must have sensed it too, because Kirishima feels him deflate, the anger leaving his shoulders.

They stay like that for a little while, Yokozawa warm against him.

“I was telling the truth though, about what Hiyo said,” Kirishima says after a sufficient amount of time has passed. “And _of course_ I know what you’re like, so I kind of figured that it’s not because you’re bored of me or something.”

“… But I have been wondering why you seemed to be putting up less of a fight lately… Not that it’s a bad thing,” he continues. “That’s the truth.”

Seconds pass and Yokozawa is still quiet. However, he begins to fidget. Kirishima turns his head to look at him, and notices that the tips of his ears are red.

“Yokozawa?”

Yokozawa swallows thickly, averting his eyes.

“…’m just tryna tone down my tsundrmrph…” he mumbles.

Kirishima blinks. “Huh?”

“I’m just trying to tone down my ‘tsundere shit’,” Yokozawa spits out with a sigh.

“Your…” Kirishima is confused for a moment, but he soon recalls the familiar phrase.

“ _Oh_.”

“… the hell was that reaction?”

“Sorry, I… I’m just surprised,” Kirishima admits, the pieces of the puzzle slowly clicking into place.

“Surprised?”

“You really do love me,” Kirishima teases, unable to contain his smile.

“ _Hah_?” Yokozawa is twisting in his arms now, embarrassment clear as he fights Kirishima’s grip around him. “How did you get that from what I just said?”

Kirishima lets go of Yokozawa just enough to have him whirl around, steadying him by the waist as he faces him, before he starts backing him towards the wall.

“Oh, I’m pretty good at reading between the lines,” Kirishima murmurs, taking slow and deliberate steps towards him. “Hiyo as well, apparently.”

“She didn’t say that,” Yokozawa grunts, holding his hands up in front him in a vain attempt at brushing him off. Kirishima knows this dance by heart.

“You’re right, she didn’t,” Kirishima concedes as he plants a hand next to Yokozawa’s head.

Yokozawa turns his face away from him, but Kirishima can tell that his cheeks are tinted pink and so is his neck.

“Back off,” Yokozawa mutters. “You’re too close.”

“Mm, no,” Kirishima smirks, sliding a hand up Yokozawa’s neck to his cheek – feeling the way that he shudders under his touch – and gently guides Yokozawa’s face back towards him. “I’d rather not.”

Yokozawa raises his eyes to meet his and Kirishima feels a jolt of adrenaline course through his body. Yokozawa’s gaze is dark as he reaches forward, fingers curling into the front of Kirishima’s shirt.

“ _Fine_.”

Yokozawa jerks him forward into a kiss, and when Kirishima’s lips part in surprise, Yokozawa takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into his mouth as he presses up against Kirishima’s body.

When he finally pulls away, breathing hard, Kirishima finds his knees weak as he blinks stupidly at Yokozawa, equal parts turned on and dazed. It’s true that half the time Kirishima’s always goading Yokozawa into initiating things, but when he actually does and shamelessly seduces him like he just did…

_Well_ , Kirishima thinks as he snakes an arm around Yokozawa’s waist, pulling him in for a kiss of his own. _I’m not about to resist._

* * *

It’s rare that Kirishima finds himself in this position with Yokozawa on top of him.

They’ve quickly moved from the living room to the bedroom as soon as Kirishima starts kissing Yokozawa in earnest, especially once Kirishima senses that Yokozawa is turning into a pliable and flushed mess of muffled moans, even as he tries to put on a gruff and prickly front.

They move to the bedroom because Kirishima has no doubt that even in this state, Yokozawa would still throw a fit if he were to suggest doing it anywhere else that wasn’t the bedroom in the Kirishima household. And with Yokozawa being in an unexpectedly good mood this evening, he’s not about to test his limits today.

They stumble down the hallway, before Kirishima somehow manages to navigate the both of them into the bedroom, pulling Yokozawa against him as he uses his own body to nudge the door shut behind them. There’s no one else in the house, but Yokozawa has always been particular about this detail, even when they are alone.

Kirishima realises that it’s difficult to grind against Yokozawa when he’s the one with his back against the door, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try. Pushing Yokozawa’s legs apart with his foot, Kirishima sticks his knee between them, thigh brushing against Yokozawa’s groin. He knows it feels good from the way that Yokozawa’s breath stutters, and when he slides his hands down to grip Yokozawa’s ass and push him harder against his thigh, he’s rewarded with a groan.

“Ngn…!” Yokozawa steadies a hand against the wall, eyes glazed over with arousal.

Kirishima takes the opportunity to press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, grazing his teeth over the sensitive skin while he gently rocks his hips against Yokozawa’s, feeling his cock stiffen against his thigh.

“Don’t…!” Yokozawa jolts back.

“Don’t what?” Kirishima asks, pulling him back to suck on a particularly sensitive spot on Yokozawa’s neck.

“Don’t—ha—” Yokozawa struggles to form a sentence with Kirishima’s persistent efforts to throw him off. “Don’t leave a mark, dammit.”

“Then maybe you should give me a little more skin to work with so that I can even out the attention,” Kirishima murmurs, already sliding his hands under Yokozawa’s shirt, exploring the warm skin beneath it.

Kirishima doesn’t remember much after that, his own arousal fogging up his mind. As fun as it is teasing Yokozawa, Kirishima has to admit that he has his limits too. And right now, he’s intent on getting Yokozawa to the bed, undressed, as soon as possible.

He hears the sound of their shirts hitting the floor and maybe their pants as well, but all he _feels_ is Yokozawa’s body near him, his own lips insistently searching for familiar – and new – areas that’ll coax more breathless noises from Yokozawa.

And then they are on the bed, his fingers slick with lotion, stroking Yokozawa while he’s face down on the mattress in an area he knows will draw the sounds he wants to hear.

“Haa…”

Even though Kirishima can’t see Yokozawa’s face from where he is positioned behind him, he can tell from the way that Yokozawa is clenching and unclenching around the fingers that are buried deep inside him that he feels good.

“Nngn… Ha…”

Kirishima twists his fingers, scissoring them inside him to ensure that he’s adequately stretched, while making sure that he’s still brushing that same spot in Yokozawa that’s making his body so acquiescent.

“Th-that’s enough…” Yokozawa gasps, hands grasping at the bedsheets for purchase, fingers trembling and knuckles white.

He brings himself close to Yokozawa, wrapping an arm around his waist as he presses his cock against the back of Yokozawa’s thigh, leaving a trail of pre-cum as he grinds against him. Kirishima leans forward, breath hot against Yokozawa’s ear as he deliberately groans – pleased that the sound of him moaning draws a frustrated noise from Yokozawa – and proceeds to nip at the outer rim of his ear.

“Ng—ah! Stop… _teasing_ – !”

“I’m just being very patient,” Kirishima grins as his stroking fingers elicit another shudder from Yokozawa. Or maybe it’s the way Kirishima is dragging his own cock over Yokozawa’s ass as he fingers him. “Can’t you tell?”

“Well, I’m _not_ ,” Yokozawa grunts, and that’s when he turns around, shoving Kirishima onto his back. That’s how Kirishima finds himself here, in this position, with Yokozawa on top of him.

Kirishima blinks, caught off guard. He can probably count on the fingers on one hand the number of times that Yokozawa has been so forward.

If Yokozawa was feeling embarrassed or self-conscious, Kirishima supposes that he’s thinking that there’s no turning back now. Especially not when he’s straddling Kirishima in this manner.

“Sit up,” Yokozawa orders, and when Kirishima obeys without protest, Yokozawa meets him halfway, crushing their lips together in another deep, punishing kiss.

Kirishima is thinking that he doesn’t quite mind being jerked around by Yokozawa like this once in a while – in fact, it’s a huge turn on – and is far too distracted in his task of kissing Yokozawa senseless to realise that Yokozawa had somehow lubed Kirishima’s cock up, positioned himself right above him and is guiding Kirishima into him in one swift movement. So when Kirishima suddenly feels Yokozawa tight and hot around him, his body seizes with unexpected pleasure.

He gasps loudly against Yokozawa’s lips, and by the time he returns to his senses and snaps open his eyes to look at Yokozawa pointedly, Kirishima sees a self-satisfied smirk waiting for him.

“Too much?” Yokozawa asks, amused, using the strength of his thighs to stop gravity from pushing him further down Kirishima’s dick. He slides Kirishima out of himself so that just the tip is still inside him. It’s extremely sensitive, and Kirishima nearly growls with impatience.

“ _You_ ,” Kirishima says, voice rough as he wraps his arms around Yokozawa’s waist and tugs him down. “You are full of surprises today.”

Yokozawa bites back a moan, brows furrowing as he tries to regain control of the situation.

“You usually get _so_ upset whenever we’re out of condoms,” Kirishima continues, as he engages his core to thrust up into Yokozawa, grinning when it draws an unrestrained gasp from him.

Yokozawa glares at Kirishima before he can repeat the motion. “That’s because you’re doing the laundry tomorrow,” he says drily, before steadying his hands against the headboard and begins to fuck himself on Kirishima’s cock.

Kirishima takes a deep breath as he leans back, finding that he doesn’t have a clever response to Yokozawa’s excuse, the surprises that he has thrown his way over the course of the evening rendering Kirishima less articulate than usual. That, and the way that Yokozawa is moving on his cock sending jagged waves of pleasure coursing through his body while he’s mesmerised by the view – the view of Yokozawa with his eyes stubbornly closed, brows knitted, lips slightly parted, softly panting and groaning as he moves relentlessly on top of Kirishima.

Kirishima knows that for Yokozawa to look like this in front of him would involve Yokozawa focusing intently – and only – on the way his body feels right now, the way each slick movement makes him shudder. Because for him to look this enthusiastic, to look this lost in ecstasy without barking at Kirishima while he’s just watching him would normally be unbearable for Yokozawa.

And then those hands that were gripping the headboard suddenly drop to Kirishima’s shoulders, and Yokozawa wraps his arms around his neck, leaning on him as he picks up the pace.

“Stop… staring…” Yokozawa gasps, face warm against Kirishima’s cheek, breath hot and insistent in his ear.

Kirishima laughs breathlessly, hands resting by Yokozawa’s hips, urging him on.

“You sound like you’re asking me for more.”

“No one’s—ha—asking you for anything.”

Kirishima slips a hand between them and grips Yokozawa’s cock, and he makes a choked sound, losing his momentum as Kirishima starts to jerk him off.

“Are you sure?” Kirishima whispers into his ear. “Because it seems like you like this.”

“Shut… the hell up…” Yokozawa mutters, body trembling against Kirishima as he works him at a feverish pace.

“Is this all part of toning down your ‘tsundere shit’?” Kirishima asks, grinning as Yokozawa glares at him before he squeezes his eyes shut, another wave of pleasure rippling through him.

Kirishima takes the moment when Yokozawa has his guard down to switch their positions, shoving him down on his back, dick still buried in him.

Yokozawa makes a startled noise and Kirishima seals his lips with a ferocious kiss, the kind that he knows leaves Yokozawa weak in the knees.

“What the…”

There’s no mistaking the dazed look in Yokozawa’s eyes, and perhaps it’s the combination of all the unexpected events of the night, but Kirishima is overcome with a sudden tenderness for him.

Kirishima smiles, threading his fingers through Yokozawa’s hair as he places a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You’ve made me very happy today,” he whispers, and draws back to look at Yokozawa, who instantly averts his eyes.

“Look at me,” Kirishima says, using a hand to gently guide Yokozawa’s face towards him.

Yokozawa’s eyes meet his, reluctantly.

Kirishima laughs. “Don’t look so upset…” And then Kirishima’s voice is low, eyes dark. “I just want you to see what it looks like when I want you.”

Yokozawa is so caught off guard by his direct and frank statement that when Kirishima thrusts hard into him, he barely contains the lewd sound he makes. But Kirishima doesn’t give him any time to feel embarrassed, because he angles Yokozawa’s hips and follows up with another quick thrust. And judging from the blissed-out way that Yokozawa cries out and clenches around him, Kirishima is certain that he’s hitting the right spot.

“Yokozawa…” Kirishima murmurs as he wraps a hand tight around Yokozawa’s swollen cock, the tip wet and dripping with pre-cum, and starts to jerk him in time with his thrusts, pounding and pressing deeper into him.

“Nngn ah—haa…”

Kirishima watches with growing pleasure rising through him as Yokozawa gives himself over to how good he feels, with little to no care for how he looks or sounds. His head is thrown back, the long line of his neck slick with sweat, muscles tense and hands grasping at the sheets around them.

Kirishima decides that he needs to see him come.

Biting his lip in a desperate effort to hold back his own release, Kirishima urgently presses deep within him and then strokes him quick and fast, seeing the way Yokozawa’s eyes snap open with something that looks like panic, before he unconsciously reaches up to wrap his arms around Kirishima’s neck and squeezes his eyes shut.

Yokozawa’s back arches as he comes with a shuddering, gasping orgasm, cum spilling warm and wet between them and all over Kirishima’s hand. The downright erotic noise that Yokozawa makes when he climaxes coupled with the way his ass clenches hot and tight around his cock tips Kirishima over the edge, groaning as his own release washes over him.

Maybe it’s his age catching up with him or the alcohol from earlier that evening settling in his system, but when he recovers from his orgasm, Kirishima feels much too comfortable and far too exhausted. He lets his limbs fold as he collapses next to Yokozawa on the bed, deciding that even if he’s making a mess, it’ll be a mess he’ll deal with at a later time.

But it turns out that Yokozawa has already gotten it under control, reaching quickly for the wet tissues and towels in the bedside table drawers, hastily wiping both of them clean without so much as a grumble or a snippy remark.

_That’s another detail_ , Kirishima thinks as he hears the bedroom door open and Yokozawa heads out to dispose of the tissues and towels before taking a quick shower. Despite his gruff, prickly exterior, protests and general distaste for Kirishima’s displays of affection, Kirishima gets glimpses of the Yokozawa that he tends to hide from the rest of the world. The Wild Bear of Marukawa has a good, kind and loving heart – a heart that Kirishima fully intends on keeping his own.

And although they butt heads often, it’s never anything serious, and he knows without a shred of doubt the way that Yokozawa feels about him… _with or without his “tsundere shit”_ , Kirishima thinks with a smile.

The room is quiet and Kirishima is slowly drifting asleep when he hears the bedroom door open again.

And when he feels the bed dip next to him, Kirishima drowsily reaches for Yokozawa, and is glad to feel him settle warm in his arms without much resistance.

“Thank you,” Kirishima whispers, holding Yokozawa close and placing a soft kiss to the back of his neck.

Yokozawa presses his hand, rough and warm, over Kirishima’s in response and Kirishima catalogues the tender moment in his mind as he finally lets sleep take him.

* * *

It happens slowly – so slowly that Kirishima almost doesn’t notice it.

They are walking to the train station after the wedding after-party of colleagues from another department, with Yokozawa walking just behind Kirishima, by his right shoulder, as he always does.

They talk about Hiyori and her future, light-heartedly venturing into the topic that Kirishima has always kept at the back of his mind when Yokozawa – like he has always been aware of his darkest thoughts – says: “If you become all alone, I’ll provide you the service of looking after you, so that you don’t die lonely.”

It makes Kirishima stop in his tracks in surprise. Just like that, Yokozawa’s words shatter unexpectedly deep-rooted, underlying fears into a million insignificant pieces, and dissolves a loneliness that Kirishima perhaps wasn’t even aware of himself with understanding and assurance.

Suddenly, all the details that he had been cataloguing since Hiyori called him out for not noticing starts coming together and he sees it clearly now.

In Yokozawa’s statement, Kirishima hears the promise of forever. And in the little details of Yokozawa’s every action, Kirishima sees that for a long time now, Yokozawa had been taking steady steps towards that future, towards him.

“Such an unromantic confession. What are you, an old man?” he says, deadpan, as he tries not to let slip just how emotional he actually feels.

“Don’t expect such things from me!” is Yokozawa’s predictable response, and Kirishima can’t help but grin.

When they get to the train station, Kirishima feels the slightest tinge of disappointment that they have to part ways.

“See you,” Yokozawa says, and Kirishima decides that he really wants to – needs to – kiss him. Somehow, he knows that even though they are in public, Yokozawa wouldn’t mind it. Not in this moment. “When you leave home tomorrow, call me.”

“Yokozawa.” Kirishima calls out, and Yokozawa turns to look at him like he always does, and Kirishima feels an overwhelming affection for him.

Taking a step to close the distance between them, Kirishima reaches out, gently tips Yokozawa’s chin up, and kisses him.

It’s nothing like the way he usually kisses Yokozawa when he’s trying to tease him or get a rise out of him. It’s soft, careful, sweet.

Yokozawa pales, eyes wide.

“Ahh, I’m such a happy guy,” Kirishima says with a big smile that reaches his eyes. “I have a cute family and a cute lover.”

“Who the heck are you calling cute?!”

Kirishima laughs, bidding Yokozawa goodbye with a wave as he heads off in the direction of his apartment. He knows from the way Yokozawa has picked this detail to quibble over rather than the fact that he had kissed him in public at the entrance of a rather busy train station that Yokozawa has understood his feelings perfectly.

“Your confession, I shall gladly accept it,” Kirishima says, before turning around to look at Yokozawa. “We’ll be together ‘til death do us part, it’s a promise!”

Yokozawa’s jaw drops. “Hey, wait—!”

“I’ll mail you the time later,” Kirishima says, waving him off.

He doesn’t need to look back to know that Yokozawa is probably blushing. Kirishima raises a hand to his own cheek and knows for a fact that his own face is warm. He smiles, and thinks that his heart hasn’t felt this full in a while.

Tomorrow he’ll see Yokozawa again, and Kirishima makes a mental note to show him all the different ways that he has, for a long time now, set his heart on forever with him too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! It's been an incredibly long time since I've last written for Sekakoi, and I've always wanted to write for KiriYoko. I really enjoyed the light novels and they are easily my favourite pair in the series. This fic was definitely an exercise in marrying my style of writing with Fujisaki Miyako's (particularly the parts with the smut, hahaha) and I had a lot of fun. I hope you enjoyed it too!
> 
> If you want to talk about KiriYoko and bl in general, I have [a twitter account](https://twitter.com/ghostwritingari) and am always looking for new friends! (I also talk a lot about sports anime there.)


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